The Seeker and the Messenger
by dyslexic-Carmie
Summary: Russia has a little quest for the Baltic states.
1. Chapter 1

She frowned at his sleeping body. Her brother was a liar. This bundle of disgusting flesh was far from being angelic looking.

"How are you the favorite?" she questioned the slumbering mass of disgusting flesh.

The slumbering mass of disgusting flesh turned over and mumbled something about his Polish friend having a shoe-hoarding problem.

"Yeah, yeah, you shut up," she spat at him. "It's ruining my concentration."

He mumbled something else about his Polish friend then turned over again. This time it was something about a chess game.

"Stop moving." She placed her left hand on his face to hold it still. Then very carefully she took out her sharpie.

Unable to hear her instruction in his unconscious state, the bundle of disgusting flesh twitched his head to the right. Now his disgusting face was smashing her delicate hand.

"Shit," she cursed moving her hand out from under his face.

Once her hand was safely away from being smashed by his face, she placed her on top of his face again. Horrified to find her face feel as if she was blushing, she hesitated and moved it away. She'll have to hold his face down in another way. Something that didn't make her feel uncomfortable from embarrassment.

"I... didn't... know... that," he mumbled in his sleep.

"Of course you didn't," she remarked to his sleep talk. "You're never aware of anything."

He snored loudly. She smiled pleased to find his snore slightly adorable...

No. She would never think that, she smiled because his snore was as equally disgusting as the rest of him. Nothing about him is adorable. So, why does that thought feel cozy in her head?

"Goodness," she mumbled to herself. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

He rolled over again. Was he always this restless in his sleep? Or was just that her presence was making him uneasy?

Whatever, the reason didn't matter. The atmosphere around a sleeper doesn't alter their snoozing behavior. People can sleep through storms, fires, robberies, and what she came here for.

She sighed. He was just asleep. Nothing more. Her presence wasn't doing anything to him.

"Natalia," he mumbled in his slumber.

Goodness, maybe her presence was causing this uneasiness.

"Natalia," he repeated.

She sighed. So, he says her name in his sleep. Not her country title, or human name. Interesting. What sort of dreams does he have about her? Are they beautiful?

"Ugh," she grumbled to herself. "I need to get this done already, and get out of here."

She pulled the covers off his sleeping body. Despite being exposed to the cold air traveling through the window, her way of entering the room, he didn't move. She was thankful for this. She had work to do, and this work didn't involve her hand being smashed again.

If she was too embarrassed to leave the message on his face, then why not leave it somewhere else? Her brother wasn't real specific on where to leave the message.

"Oh..." he said. "I... oh."

She frowned. Now came the not fun part. She placed her hands on his shirt and began unbuttoning. Maybe she should have done her original plan of writing the message on his face.

He turned his head towards the wall, away from her, but the rest of his body didn't move. "Don't."

She moved her hand away feeling afraid that he was going to wake up. If that would happen how would she respond? How would he respond to her being in his bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt, while he's sleeping?

"Shit," she mumbled feeling anger that she let herself believe that he was going to wake up.

She sighed and returned to her task. He didn't say anything for the whole process, he just breathed lightly, like a very relaxed person. Once his shirt was unbuttoned she pulled it open.

"Impressive," she found herself mumbling out loud before she could stop herself.

She placed her Sharpie on his flat stomach and began writing the message. In English to make it harder to place where the message came from.

_Three boys will search for three hidden chests_

_You are one of the three on my request_

_There will be several tests_

_And only one will be victorious on my quest_

After the message was written, she took a second to admire her penmanship. For somebody who isn't native to this language, she sure can write in beautifully. Satisfied with her work she stuck an orange sticky note on his stomach, and pulled the covers back over his sleeping body.

Now time to leave this room. She grumbled and turned to the window. She didn't exactly want to leave the way she came. It just wasn't as interesting.

"Goodbye," she said exciting the room through the door rather than the window.

"Bye," he repeated dreamily.

Success, she made it in, left a message, and got out before he awoke. She felt exhilarated, and confident. She had left the message just like her big brother wanted.

Now her big brother will trust her with more things. Maybe even the things people promise each other in the vows of marriage.

"Belarus?" the voice of an obnoxious American asked in the hallway. He was probably walking the bathroom to relieve his bladder. Or the kitchen to eat a late night snack. He's probably has mini fridge in his bedroom, so it was more likely the bathroom option.

She froze. Maybe she shouldn't be counting her chickens before they hatch. She had forgotten that the receiver of the message was staying at the American's house rather then his own house.

"Am I dreaming?"

"Yes, you're dreaming," she said quickly.

He smiled. "Thought so. Why else would you be standing in my hallway in a Catwoman suit?"

She frowned regretting her decision to where black leggings. So, the fat American dreams about her too? That's some information she was better off not having.

"So, are you going to join me in my room?"

Goodness, that's what he dreams about her? She really was better off not knowing this.

"We can build a pillow fort, and watch Silver Linings Playbook together." He laughed. "Yeah, I know that movie is still in theaters, but this a dream ain't it? Since I'm aware that I'm dreaming I can control my dream. So, now I say that I have Silver Linings Playbook on blue ray, and we're going to watch it together in my room!"

Oh, he just wants to watch a movie, and build a pillow fort. She thought his imagination was going to make him suggest something else.

"This is going to be so awesome! I already seen the movie like four times in theaters. Now I get to watch it with you when you're looking extremely hot!"

She shook her head. Something was really wrong with that boy. Nobody dreams of _just_ watching a movie with a girl.

"Should I invite Toris to join us?" he laughed. "He's visiting me for the hell of it. Wait, why am I asking you this? This is my dream. You're going to be down with anything I decide to do. Dude, this is just awesome!"

"Alfred..." She felt uncomfortable using his human name. "You should go wait in your room."

"Why?"

"Catwoman has a little errand she needs to do."

"Can I come?"

"No."

"Can I at least help? I am a hero after all."

She grinned. "You can turn the alarms off."

"Okie dokie," he said happy to help. "Are you going to come back when you're done with this errand?"

She followed him to the front door. "It's a possibility."

He punched in the super secret number code (his birthday) and opened the front door for her. "Is there anything else the hero can do for you?" he asked before she walked outside.

She thought for a second. "Promise me that you wouldn't tell anybody about me being here-"

"I promise," he said before she could finish.

"Especially Lithuania," she finished. "That swine doesn't need to know who the messenger is."

"Messenger?"

"All will be revealed in the morning," she stated walking out the door. "Now go continue this lovely dream in your bedroom, Alfred."

He closed the door behind her, and did as he was told. This little exchange he had with her will soon be forgotten in the morning. Hopefully.

She smiled. This was way too easy. She just waltzed out the front door to get out of there.

"America literally escorted you to the door?" her brother asked when she made it back to the van. "Sister you're either the worse messenger or the best messenger in the world."

She laughed.

"I take it you didn't tell America anything."

"Not a word of the quest was spoken, big brother," she confirmed. "The fast-food smelling swine believes this is all a dream."

He raised an eyebrow, and looked at her leggings. "You might want to pick a better wardrobe next time."

"Don't worry America's imagination doesn't exist in that department."

"Oh?"

"The swine just wanted to watch some movie and build a pillow fort."

"Are you sure that 'build a pillow fort' isn't some sort of euphemism?"

"Do you think America is clever enough for a euphemism?"

He chuckled. "Nope. Oh wow, I almost made our round friend appear smarter than he really is."

She joined in on the laugh. It was nice to have a regular conversation with her brother for once.

"So, what's are next stop?" he asked once the laugher died out.

"Sealand," she answered. "If our bouncy-boobs of a sister did her job as messenger correctly then she should be leaving Finland now and Estonia should have his message."

Her brother sighed. "Is there a reason why you hate Ukraine so much?"

She frowned. Of course there was a reason. He wore the scarf she gave him everyday. That scarf symbolized their friendship. She had no place in any of it.

"No," she lied.

He didn't appear like believed it, but he let the topic drop. "Are you positive that Latvia is visiting Sealand?"

"Yes." She laughed. "In a way its sort of funny. Lithuania is visiting his stupid friend America. Estonia is visiting his friend Finland. And Latvia is visiting his friend Sealand."

Her brother frowned. "I don't get the joke."

She lost her smile and frowned too. "I guess I don't either. How are we going to get to Sealand?"

"England has accidently misplaced one of his ships. Since it somehow conveniently ended up at my house we're going to borrow it."

"You stole it. Didn't you?"

"That's open for debate, but its not like England going to notice his ship missing."

She yawned. "So do I still need a wardrobe change before this message is delivered?"

"Are you going to run into Sealand when you're supposed to leave unnoticed?"

Oh, so he's unhappy that she tricked America into escorting her to the door. Shit. That means he sees her as a failure.

"No big brother," she answered. "And in the case of America, the swine promised me that he wouldn't tell anybody that he saw me."

He sighed. Then looked at his watch. "I guess I'll be the messenger for this one."

"What?"

"We don't have enough time for you to get a new outfit."

He really does she her as a failure. That does nothing for future marriage proposal.

"I won't mess up this one!" She blushed realizing that she said that a little too loud. "I'll get in and out of Sealand's home before he or Latvia know that I was there."

"No, its okay. Its not that I don't trust your ability Belarus, I just want to be a messenger too."

He's just saying this too make her feel better. If he wanted to be a messenger he would have gave Latvia his message when she was giving Lithuania's his.

He smiled. "I actually think it'll be real fun. You can drive the ship."

Well at least he trusts her with a stolen English boat.

"Sure."

**A/N**

**This is an old unposted story I found on my computer. I decided that I should actually finish this bad boy.**

**Tell whatcha think. Whatcha want. Whatcha really really want.**

**Oh, and feel free to point out any of those mistakes in the grammer department. **


	2. Chapter 2

He had a lovely dream last night. It was about a beautiful girl he knew in real life. He felt sad when he woke up, because he woke up alone instead of by a pretty girl.

"Hey Toris!" his American friend called. "Do ya want pancakes for breakfast, or bacon for breakfast, or bacon pancakes for breakfast?"

He smiled. Okay, so maybe he wasn't alone. He was at his friend's house. It still wasn't the same as being with her, but at least it was better than waking up alone.

"Or we could just go out for breakfast! I know a great place that serves cupcakes with bacon on them," his friend said when he didn't respond.

"Cupcakes for breakfast?" he asked sitting up.

His blanket rolled down his body, and exposed his bare chest to the cold. Why was his shirt unbuttoned anyway?

"Totally man!" his friend answered. "Anything can be breakfast if you put one of the basic breakfast food groups on it."

The fact that his shirt was unbuttoned really was interesting. He had a strange dream but lovely dream last night, and in that dream a beautiful girl wrote two names on his chest and drew a heart around them. Those two names were his name and her name.

"The basic breakfast food groups are bacon, eggs, pancakes, sausage, toast, and cereal," the American continued. "As long as you put one of the basic breakfast food groups on whatever you're eating, then you're eating a healthy well-balanced breakfast. That's why wrapping bacon around your Twinkies is a good thing."

He frowned as he found a sticky note placed on his chest. It was orange and nothing was written on it. Strange.

"Hey! If ya want we can have Twinkies wrapped in bacon for breakfast!" his friend said laughing as he opened the door to his bedroom.

"I thought the company went out of business," he said as the American walked into his room.

His friend took a seat in the recliner in his room. "Dude, I'm like a boy scout. I brought a zillion of those heavenly goodness when Hostess went out of business."

He sat up, and threw the orange sticky note into the little trashcan by his bed. "How does that make you like a boy scout?"

The American laughed. "Dude, always prepared."

Prepared for what? He didn't get it.

"Since when do you have a tattoo?" his friend asked noticing his bare chest.

"Tattoo?" He looked down. "What is this?"

"Dude, it's a tattoo!" the American answered. "How did you get a tattoo anyway? All we did yesterday was eat Pop-Tarts and play with Lincoln Logs."

"I don't think its real tattoo."

His friend moved by his bedside. "Can I touch it?"

The American didn't wait for a response. His hands felt cold and sticky on his stomach.

"Dude, its Sharpie." His friend moved his hand away. "Do you write words on yourself in your sleep or something?"

"I don't think I've ever wrote on myself while I was asleep," he answered. "What do the words say?"

The American shrugged. "I don't know. It's all in cursive. Its like a chick wrote it or something."

"I don't write like a girl."

"Well maybe the sleeping version of you writes like a girl."

"That doesn't really make any sense," he said standing up from his bed.

"Its not like some girl came in here last night to write cursive on your stomach." His friend smiled. "Wow, it's almost like my dream I had last night wasn't really a dream."

He moved towards a mirror to read the writing on his chest. "What was your dream last night?"

"I had a dream Belarus came over here dressed like Catwoman."

"Were you dressed like Batman?" he asked moving his shirt out of the way for he could get a better view of his stomach.

"Crap! I should have thought of that! That would have been the best dream ever!"

So, his American friend has a crush on the Belarusian girl too? Oh goodness, he was better off not knowing that.

"Dude that dream could have been twenty percent cooler," the American continued. "Oh, wait man, that dream could have been even better if England was dressed as the Joker, and France was dressed as Bane! Do you get what I'm getting at?"

"Not really."

"My dream last night would have been awesome if I was Batman, and everybody else was a Batman villain!" his friend exclaimed. "I would totally be punching everybody in the face as Batman!"

Oh good. So maybe his American friend doesn't have a crush on the Belarusian beauty. That's great.

He smiled. "I'm sure you'll have fun in that dream."

The American laughed. "So, can you read the girly cursive you wrote on your stomach last night?"

"I don't think I wrote it," he answered. "But I can read girly cursive."

"Awesome man! Read it! Read it! Read it!"

"Okay, calm down. The words say 'Three boys will search for three hidden chests. You are one of the three on my request. There will be several tests. And only one will be victorious on my quest'," he read.

His friend's eyes lit up. "Oh wow. I've been summoned for a quest. Its like my life is a videogame or something!"

"Uh, I think I'm the one who's been summoned for the quest."

The American laughed. "Ha, fat chance. The message was written on your stomach. Without a mirror you can't exactly read your stomach."

"Maybe whoever set-up this quest wanted me to stand in front of a mirror."

"That's too television like to be realistic. Dude, I'm the hero. I think I'm the one who's one of the three boys."

He sighed. It was probably more likely that whoever set up this silly quest picked his American friend as one of the three boys. He wasn't as important as the American. However, for some reason he still felt like the poem was meant for him.

"So what do you think the poem means?" he asked.

His friend shrugged. "I guess it means something like dude you're one of the three awesome members of the world." He took his phone out of his pocket. "I should take a picture of your chest."

"That's a good idea," he said as his friend snapped a photo. "This sharpie is going to wash off, and it'll probably be best to have documentation of the first message. Or only message. I'm not really sure what this quest is about."

"Neither am I." The American pushed some buttons on his phone. "Oh, and that whole documentation mumbo-jumbo crap you mentioned is a great idea. I was just taking a picture for Facebook."

"You're going to post a picture of me shirtless on the Internet?"

"Dude, relax. Your head is cropped out of the photo. Nobody's going to know whose abs these are," his friend answered. "What should I make the caption say?"

"I don't know. Maybe you can ask if anybody understands what this poem means."

"Nah, the hero doesn't ask for help. Help just comes to the hero without him asking."

"That doesn't make any sense."

The American chuckled. "I'm going to make the caption say 'Dude! I'm a chosen one! I've been chosen for a quest! Like a boss! Be jealous y'all!'"

"I don't think you're get any help with that kind of caption."

"I'm not asking for help. Oh and I'll also add to the caption, 'BTW guys those aren't my abs'. That way people won't get confused." His friend pushed a few buttons on his phone. "And now that bad boy is posted."

What are people going to get confused about? Nobody will believe that his stomach belonged to his American friend anyway.

He began buttoning back up his shirt. "Are we going to start searching for that first chest today?"

"Nah today is the brag day."

"Brag day?"

"Yeah, brag day," the American answered. "Today I'm just going to brag to all my friends that didn't get chosen for this quest, and watch them get jealous. Its going to be so much fun!"

"But what if the three other boys chosen on request find all the hidden chests before you?"

"Like that's going to happen. I'm The United States of America! My name already says winner."

"But we don't even know who the other two boys are. They could be winners too."

"True, but the other boys aren't The United States of America. So even if they are somewhat of a winner they'll still be no match for me."

"I think you're getting a little bit of a ego."

His friend laughed. "It'll probably be for the best that I don't go searching today. It would be mean if I immediately started searching for all those chests today."

"Why would it be mean?"

"Duh, I'll find all of them," the American said sounding excited. "I need to at least give those other boys some hope that they might have a fighting chance against me."

"I guess that makes sense," he lied. It really didn't make any sense to him.

His friend's phone made a noise. "Bro, my phone is blowing up with Facebook messages."

"Really?"

"Yeah, they're all comments about your naked stomach." The American laughed. "Don't worry, man. They don't know that it's your naked stomach."

"What do they say?"

"Most of them are from Estonia." The American scrolled down on his phone. "I guess Estonia is one of the three boys on request."

"Estonia?"

"Yeah, whoever set up this quest is really not trying too hard on getting me worthy opponents."

"What is Estonia saying?"

"Estonia is saying that he found the exact same poem written on an orange sticky note."

"Orange sticky note?"

"Yeah, orange sticky note. He sent me a picture." The American turned his phone around for he could see. "Want to see?"

The photo showed an orange sticky note attached to a toaster. The poem was the same one written on his stomach. The only difference was that the handwriting was a little different.

"That's funny," he said.

"Yeah, that toaster totally looks stupid."

"Not the toaster. The sticky note."

"What about it?"

"I had a sticky note attached to my stomach when I woke up this morning," he answered. "Its like whoever left this message was supposed to put the poem on the sticky note."

"I don't get it."

"The person who left this message wrote in on my stomach and stuck the sticky note to my stomach. They probably were supposed to write the poem on the sticky note and place it somewhere I would see it."

His friend raised an eyebrow. "You mean somewhere I would see it."

"Yeah, that's what I meant to say. Did Estonia send anymore photos?" he asked trying to change the subject.

"Nope. But Sealand posted a photo of another orange sticky note. It has the same poem written on it. Oh, and Prussia says, 'Nice sexy abs'. It's a shame that nobody knows those aren't your abs. You're getting all sorts of crazy compliments. France wants to take his own photos of your stomach."

"Oh my."

"If you want I'll tell France that it's your stomach."

"No that's okay," he answered. "So, Sealand got a poem message too. Does that mean Sealand is one of the three boys?"

"I guess so. Whoever set up this quest really isn't giving me much competition." The American turned his phone around again. "Want to see Sealand's photo?"

The photo was just the young micronation's hand holding the orange sticky note. It was the same poem, but with a completely different handwriting than his or the one given to the Estonian.

"Why are all the handwriting different?"

"I have no idea. Maybe whoever sent these messages is super paranoid, or maybe Estonia and Sealand made their own poems to pretend that they were one of the chosen boys."

"I don't think Estonia would do that. Maybe Sealand."

"Yeah, whatever. They're still not going to be victorious on this quest," the American said scrolling on his phone. "Oh, hey, Estonia wants to have a meeting with everybody who received one of these messages. He thinks it might help us figure out who sent these out or something."

"That actually sounds like a good idea. May I come to this meeting?"

"My message is written on your stomach, so you sort of have to come," his friend answered. "Oh, and we can get some of those bacon cupcakes for breakfast on the way to this meeting!"

"Sure."

**A/N **

**Reviews are like currency to me. Help make me rich. **

**Oh, and feel free to point out grammar mistakes. That way I can fix them. **


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